The very same day Peerat made his appearance with a very pitiful tale. He had two wives, and to govern them both was no easy task, but, although they had been soundly beaten, they could not be induced to come into the settlement, until he had threatened to spear them. This threat had, at last, succeeded, and in recompense for his sufferings from the loss of his son, and from the obstinacy and bad temper of his wives, he begged to be allowed to beat the latter himself. They were ordered to the spot where the robbery was committed, and there the native women soon appeared, dreadfully cut and mangled from the beating they had already received. One was a nice looking girl, about fourteen, but an incorrigible thief. Peerat was going to hit her a tremendous blow upon the head, which must have laid it open. She stood with her back to her husband, trembling and crying bitterly. The governor caught Peerat's arm, picked up a little switch from the ground, and told him to beat her on the shoulders with that, instead of with his _meero_. Two slight blows, or rather taps, were given her, in order to know where it was that the governor meant her to be struck, but the poor girl cried so bitterly from fear, that she was pardoned, and so likewise was the other woman, who had already been severely beaten, and had at that moment a little child sitting upon her shoulder, and crying piteously at the sight of its mother's tears. Before the crowd dispersed a lecture was given them, and they were warned not to presume upon the governor's clemency in the present instance.